


this car has some surprises

by impossible_rat_babies



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Car Sex, Other, POV Third Person, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, oh god there's a car sex tag, that's what is folks there's just car sex w a human and a vampire, yeah there's uh smut in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26388541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossible_rat_babies/pseuds/impossible_rat_babies
Summary: Mason’s hands creep up his back, fingers digging into the line of his spine, shirt bunching.“Don’t rip it...” Pollux mumbles through the kisses and Mason snorts.“Relax sweetheart...” He mumbles, keeping his hands on him, helping his shirt over his head and it’s shaken off, lost in the floorboards somewhere.
Relationships: NB!Detective/Mason
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	this car has some surprises

**Author's Note:**

> I read the talk of possible car *** in book 2 and you know what folks? don't let your dreams be dreams

Hands curled tight in short hairs at the back of Mason’s neck, losing count of the kisses, one bleeding into the other and its all desperate—tongue and hot open mouth—little sounds in the small space between their bodies.

Pollux is slowly losing his mind, each breath coming up in little clouds, car windows fogging up against the thunderstorm outside, rain pounding on the roof above. Nothing compared to the low rumbling groan Mason makes as Pollux kisses across his jawline, lips marking erratic pathways down the side of his neck—needy and volatile. With each one and he makes a new sound and oh Pollux could get drunk on his little noises, the jump of his racing pulse under his lips, teeth pulling on skin.

Mason’s hands creep up his back, fingers digging into the line of his spine, shirt bunching.

“Don’t rip it...” Pollux mumbles through the kisses and Mason snorts.

“Relax sweetheart...” He mumbles, keeping his hands on him, helping his shirt over his head and it’s shaken off, lost in the floorboards somewhere.

They meet again in the gaps between them, smoothing the space into a thin line, body’s curving together, fitting together. Mason’s chest against his, skin hot to the touch.

Mason’s hands find Pollux’s waist, where the crease as his hips meets swell of his thigh and it’s agonizing the way his hands slide down the slope of his inner thighs. Thumbnail running across the button on his pants, the shivering sensation of fingernails on the zipper, a smirk against his neck. Hand slipping down between his legs, shamelessly palming him through the rough fabric.

Shuddering breaths and Pollux grinds sharp against his hand, desperate for friction. Mason curses in his ear and his grip stings when he pulls him in sharper, deeper, heat burning bright in his stomach. He’s just as strung up as he is—Pollux tastes it in his kisses, lips against his neck, the curve of his cock pressing against him and it really is shameless what they’re doing.

Some back road on the way home from the warehouse—a storm catching them unawares and nothing really better to do than wait it out. 

Pollux almost expected something different from Mason. Almost.

Funny how they keep calling this just having some fun, just having sex, but it feels less and less like sex and more like what lovers do--that something that curls behind his lungs, deep in the pits of his stomach, making a home under his skin.

Pollux doesn’t think, not as Mason undos the button on his pants, yanking the zipper down and there’s still a modicum of sense in his head to help scoot the pants down off of his hips. A fumbling task considering Mason’s already trying to maneuver his hand past his underwear.

“Why do you have to wear tight pants?” Mason grumbles, lips still against lips and Pollux grins, batting his hand away. He scoots his pants down off his hips, leaving them bunched around his thighs.

“You’d throw a fit if I didn’t wear tight pants--what would stare at when you’re bored?” Pollux replies with a giddy little breathless laugh, dodging a kiss and finding the corner of his mouth instead before sitting back, trembling hands against Mason’s freckled skin, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. A deep breath in, heart still racing, brushing flyaway hairs from his face and staring down at him.

Mason’s shamelessly staring back, smirking turning the corners of his lips. Pollux shivers, his hands adrift along his thighs and hips like a ship lost at sea, desperately looking for a port. He breathes in time with him, taking time to stare back, let his eyes get lost along in the brief flashes of lighting outside.

Pollux could trace over all Mason’s curves and angles with fingers, his lips and tongue, find the places no one else has kissed him and claim them for his own, leave behind an imprint of him on his skin. Silently wondering if anyone has kissed under his earlobe and relished in the sound he’d make, or achingly kissed along the slope of his bare shoulder--taking him in kiss by kiss, freckle by freckle, soaking in sandalwood and cigarette smoke.

Maybe the lines will lead to the hollow beneath his ribs, or the valley of his thighs and there’s hardly time to think of making a home out of Mason, but Pollux still keeps staring—eyes fixed.

“You done staring yet?” Mason’s voice breaks his thoughts and he smirks enough to match his cocked brow. Pollux achingly leans back in, pointedly aware of Mason’s cock pressing against his thigh, breathing the same humid air staining the windows opaque.

“You ever get tired of undressing me with your eyes?”

“When I can actually undress you instead sweetheart.” Mason grins, fingers slipping under the hem of his underwear, sliding them down off his hips in a single tug.

Pollux’s breath stalls and stutters, Mason’s fingers slowly sliding down his slit, thumb running across his clit, soaking wet. There’s a soft sound in the back of his throat, fingers clenching against his shoulder, forehead resting against his, hair sticking to skin.

“Already?” Mason mumbles against his lips, smirking, hand continuing its steady pace, already wet with slick; fingers brushing against his stomach, rising and falling with each shuddered breath.

“Says you,” a groan cuts Pollux’s words short with a harder press against his clit and little barely there circles, pleasure skittering down to the tips of his toes curling in his shoes. “Your stupid hand on my thigh once we got in the car.”

He’d been tracing little circles is what it was, giving him looks out of the corner of his eye that he knew would make him squirm.

“Should’ve put my hand elsewhere.” Mason mumbles back, tilting his head, lips barely brushing in a knowing smirk. Pollux shudders as he imagines exactly what that would be like, heat turning sharp in his gut. Mason’s ups his pace and Pollux can’t help but whimper, the needy wet feeling building in his stomach, heart pounding loud enough to drown out the pouring rain outside.

“C-Could’ve put more than your hand places.” Pollux quips, leaning in and tugging on his lip with his teeth, earning a delightfully soft groan from Mason. Like music to his ears. “You do have a pretty mouth, sunshine...”

“Less talk...” Mason mutters and kisses him again. Pollux pulls him in sharp, his hands combing through his hair, knitting against the back of his neck, trembling. Mason’s breath catches, groaning. Thumb drawing circles and long fingers brushing against his folds, slipping between them and Pollux moans as they easily slip inside. He softly curses and Mason’s little laugh rumbles in his chest, fingers pressing in deep. Pollux swears he hears Mason mumble “that was easy” and if he had any sense of shame left (he doesn’t) it’d be downright embarrassing. But all it does is feel good.

It’s a give and take, tug and push, teeth against skin and breathless moaning kisses and yes this is sex--it’s fire under his skin and burning in his hips--but it’s more than that. How Mason knows each motion to pull more and more sounds from him, his voice filling the backseat around them, pressing back against the sounds of the thunder outside, lighting searing their eyes. It’s his bloody mouth pressing kiss after kiss wherever he can find, his hand trailing down his spine, holding him tight, holding him steady in this moment between them. 

Only one they’ll have in these breathless few minutes before it’s gone.

It’s opening his eyes to look down at him and finding him staring back, grey eyes blown wide, watching and listening like he wants to know, wants to hear every desperate sound he’s making and soak in it. Revel in how needy he is--his hips rolling into his fingers, fucking himself almost as much as his fingers are. The greediness sparking and skittering across his nerves.

“You keep this up...” Pollux mumbles, trembling all over, heat turning sharp in his gut and he’s so close, breath hiccuping.

“What Pollux?” He taunts, grinning against lips slick with kisses. His hand is soaked already, three fingers slipping in deep, curling.

“D-Don’t, Mason....” Pollux’s voice drags into a moan, body begging for him to keep going, desperately fucking himself.

“Don’t what, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Mason...”

“You’re so wet...dripping all over my fingers...”

Filthy curses run from Pollux’s mouth, shuddering and clenching tight around his fingers.

“I-If you’re gonna talk like that then fuck me already, Mason...” Pollux almost growls, digging his fingers into Mason’s shoulder and there’s almost danger in his eyes. How they darken and how he licks his lips slow and deliberate, biting his lower lip with a sharp canine.

It’s hardly ceremonious as he pulls his hand away and wrestles Pollux’s pants down—perhaps a few seams popping from the strain but they don’t rip—far enough that they won’t get in the way. Any thought Mason has of his pants being ruined either is lost as he wriggles out of them just enough.

A little laugh falls from Pollux’s lips and his hand finds Mason’s cock in the dark and he groans, Pollux sliding his hand down to the base and back up, thumb drawing circles across the head, finding what’s already leaking. Pollux grins and lifts his hand, swiping his thumb across his tongue and tasting it. Oh the curse Mason gives is sweet to his ears and he grips his hips hard. Pollux shivers, pulling himself flush against Mason.

He steadies himself, running the head of his cock through his folds, shivering when he brushes his clit and moaning when he presses deeper. His name falls from Mason’s lips along with just as many swears, and Pollux breathes deep. He slowly sinks down onto his cock and the moan Mason gives is beautiful, how he tenses beneath him.

If Pollux’s fingers clenching tight on Mason’s shoulder hurts, he doesn’t say, only quietly cursing once Pollux manages to fully seat himself. He’s shaking though, unable to stop the sounds from escaping his lips with the little movements brushing against high strung nerves.

Mason grips his ass and pulls him in closer, sliding further down the seat and it shifts, his cock pressing differently inside of him and OH.

Pollux curses. Loudly.

“D-Don’t, Mason please...” Pollux chokes past his flooded senses, shaking all over and he’s sitting just there on the edge, just teetering. A breath away from falling.

Mason’s hand presses against his flat stomach, gentle and then deeper and a strangled moan slips from Pollux’s lips.

“Alright?” Mason breathes and Pollux quickly nods, opening his eyes he didn’t know he’d clenched shut.

“If you touch me...” Pollux half chuckles and Mason sweeps his hand down, finding where Pollux is pressed flush against him, his slick already making a mess of his thighs and his poor pants. Pollux whines, whether to warn him or otherwise, and Mason can’t help but grin, almost brushing along his twitching clit. He shivers and clenches around him tight and Mason swears under his breath.

“If I touch you, you’ll cum?” Mason whispers and Pollux quickly nods, unable to find the words as he keeps not quite brushing against him.

“And if I fuck you until you cum...and even after that?” He continues and Pollux whimpers and whines, eagerly nodding, kneading his lip between his teeth. Every inch of him alive and Pollux knows it’s sharp against every single one of Mason’s senses, but it feels so good.

A long breath and Mason suddenly drags his thumb up and along his clit and pulls him up along his cock. Pollux swears, a violent shudder sparking along his nerves, his voice breaking into a loud moan as he unravels. Mason curses, hands flexing as Pollux trembles, clenching around him tightly and he’s terrible is what it is.

Mason pulls him up further before he snaps his hips up, drawing a sharp sound from Pollux above him and a whole new cascade of moans runs through him. He does it again and Pollux is still shuddering, fingers clenching tight in the seat cushion, knuckles white.

He curses loudly, hips wriggling under his hold as Mason keeps going, keeps his pace and his groans fill the spaces between Pollux’s own moans and breath he can’t quite catch. Kissing against every inch of barred skin Mason can find, teeth and sucking hard and Pollux knows--past the nonsense clouding his head--he’ll bruises all over his chest by the time they’re done, but he doesn’t care.

Doesn’t care as Mason holds him and holds him fast, yanking his bra down his chest to touch more of him like he’s starved for touch, like he won’t get a chance to hold him like this again. Touching him like he can’t get enough.

Pollux’s eyes roll, another deep shudder cascading down his spine and he can’t stop his thighs from shaking, voice spilling out of his mouth and he clenches sharp. Mason snarls, urgency in his pace now, forehead pressed into his chest.

“Mason, Mason...” Pollux gasps past his desperate attempts to breathe, fingers knitting in his hair at the back of his neck, knuckles white. “Mason cum for me, sunshine.”

That does it.

His shoulders tighten and he lets out a deep long groan, hips jerking, pace faltering into nothing more than need as he spills. Pollux bites his lip hard, warmth settling inside of him, sending more jots of pleasure down his already fried nerves.

Mason smooths his hands up to Pollux’s waist, chest heaving and his breath is hot against his skin. He shivers once or twice more, thighs tensing enough that Pollux feels it until he goes limp, hands slipping down to rest against Pollux’s stomach.

There’s a breathless laugh from him and he gently coaxes Mason’s face away from his chest, gingerly combing a few stray hairs out of his face. There’s that far too dazzling smirk in the faint light breaking through from the lightning. Both still breathing hard, messy with sweat and slick that’s surely ruining the backseat of his car.

“When you said you wanted to get me in the backseat of my car...” Pollux jokes, his heart still racing but the heat is steadily seeping out of him, settling into a faint glow, hands alive with pleasant tingles. Cumming twice in the backseat of his car isn’t a record he thought he would set, but here he is.

Mason snickers, unsticking a hair from Pollux’s cheek and his thumb brushes his lips, the edge of the scar there.

“I keep my word sweetheart.” Mason replies and he takes a deep breath and lets it out, fingers resting against the side of his neck. Pollux doesn’t think about the scars that are there, instead pulling him in for a soft kiss, so unlike all the others they like to share. Only lips against lips, sweet and tender and the warmth settles in his stomach.

“You better have something to clean up...” Pollux mumbles against his lips and Mason scoffs.

“There has to be something in this backseat you wouldn’t mind getting dirty.”

“You better hurry and find something or we’ll have a leaky mess you’ll have to clean up.”

Mason scrambles around in the floorboards and Pollux grimaces at the growing wet that is inevitably getting all over his poor seats.

“My mess? I beg to differ, sweetheart.” Mason replies indignantly and Pollux rolls his eyes.

“My vagina begs to differ sunshine. And your pants. And my seats.” He lists off and he practically hears Mason rolling his eyes, finally grabbing a hold of something--probably his emergency blanket, but that can be washed. Or thrown out.

He doesn’t think too hard about it, not when Mason looks up at him and their eyes meet, quiet heavy between them. Pollux swallows hard, words welling up on his tongue and he can taste them, almost make the shape of them with his lips. Words he could say, but ones he won’t--not here, not as he searches Mason’s eyes and he won’t ruin this moment.

Mason’s brows furrow in confusion, but Pollux just pulls his lips into a thin line and he gently kisses him once more.

“Come on,” Mason mumbles, his voice only a rumble in his chest “let’s get you home.”


End file.
